Timely Arrival
by AristaWebb
Summary: Thrown back into the Marauding era of 1977, on the word of a chocolate frog card Hermione finds herself in the thick of the first rising and well out of her depth. Hunting Horcruxes just got ten times harder. DH complient. HGRB HGSS HGSB HGRL
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my second fanfiction and my first in this new category so please be kind. I haven't read the books in a long time, nor have I seen the films since they each came out so my Potter knowledge is a little rusty and there was much consorting with the HP wiki for the details mentioned. If anything's a little off then my apologies.**** This is a set up chapter so no Marauding yet but please enjoy the read.**

Hermione groaned as she came to, it took a few moments for the pain to kick in, the throbbing in her head, the ache in her arm. She pushed herself up into a sitting position as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She was in a cell, a quick glance around told her she was alone, it also gave her a raging headache. Rubbing her temples she cautiously moved towards the door to her cell pressing her ear against it. She couldn't hear anything, leaning against it for a moment she looked down at her arm where the result of Bellatrix's knife work blazed prominently. The blood had dried in the time she'd been out and though it coated her arm she could easily make out the word MUDBLOOD.

That probably accounted for why she felt weak and shaky, tugging her sleeve down over it she moved away from the door. Patting herself down, bag and wand gone, no valuables at all, they'd even taken her watch. A glint in the corner of the cell caught her eye, she'd almost missed it, moving closer she saw a card and a small golden object on a golden chain. Instantly she recognised it, the little hourglass in the centre could only be one thing, a time turner. But that wasn't possible, they'd all been destroyed in the Department of Mysteries, but this one looked new and the markings were different to how she remembered. But then, she'd never gotten to study others so it could be that they were all slightly different.

She hesitated to touch it, surely non of her captors would leave such a valuable item in here with her. Perhaps they thought she wouldn't recognise it and would think she'd try and use it to save herself. Perhaps it was cursed. But then, why a time turner, she doubted any of them even knew she'd used one. Surely something like a poisoned plate of food would be a better choice. And then there was the card, she could see the writing on the back, leaning in, careful not to touch it or block the little light she had she read the words written there.

"_For aiding Harry Potter and Ron Weasley and the subsequent defeat of Voldemort. Also, for eradicating prop-pureblood laws at the Ministry of Magic and campaigning for the rights of non-human beings such as house-elves." _

Hermione's breath hitched, this made no sense. This couldn't have been put there by her assailants, this was beyond even their twisted minds surely. She reached out with a shaking hand to turn the card over and swallowed her startled cry of surprise.

"_Hermione Granger"_

The picture slot was empty but as she watched she saw herself step into the picture, a slightly older self.

"Hello Hermione."

Her eyes went wide, moving pictures were no longer a novelty but chocolate frog cards didn't speak.

"Listen, ironic as it sounds, I don't have a lot of time. You were never meant to be here but the potential for this future still lives. They've killed Ron and Harry has disappeared, two turns will take you to where you need to be to change the awful fate that awaits you. Good luck."

With that her pictured self walked out of the frame before Hermione could even ask any questions but it couldn't be true. Ron? Dead? And how would a card know? No this had to be a trick, something to undermine her. A clamour above made her move towards the door, pressing her ear against it trying desperately to hear. Screams; screams of rage. Bellatrix screeching and Lucius Malfoy's drawl, something about her over confidence, should never have put them in a cell together.

"Bring me the mudblood!"

Hermione felt her breath quicken, heard footsteps coming closer, the tap of shoes on stone. She scrambled back from the door, the weight of the time turner hung heavy around her neck, her only way out, but Ron, Harry? They'd need her to get the Horcruxes. The sound of locks sliding back, she frantically pulled the necklace out holding it in shaking hands. They needed her here, surely there was a way, what if this was still a trap, what if it didn't work? Peter Pettigrew in the doorway, leering at her, stepping forward, his hands reaching for her. Deft, practiced flicks of her fingers and the hourglass spun twice. He was nearly upon her now, any second and he'd have hold of her, it had been a trap, a trick. Then the pull behind her navel; like a portkey but not. The colours blurred; his face vanished.

She let out the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. She slumped back against the wall. She was still in her cell, the door was still open but Pettigrew was gone, this could be her only chance. She couldn't hear Bellatrix's screeching as she inched along the corridor, the other cells were open and empty, no sign of Harry, Ron, Luna or Griphook. Then a roar from upstairs followed by a great stamping of feet that made dust fall from the ceiling, she pressed herself against the wall, looking up the staircase and seeing no one. Inching upwards she found herself in another corridor, deserted but no cover, she zigzagged along it, quiet as she could, all the while listening for footsteps. The cheering grew louder, light under an ornate doorway and voices, many, many voices. How could so many have got here so fast? And what could they be celebrating? A dry sob hitched in her throat as terrifying thoughts gripped her mind and yet she strained to listen.

"Congratulations are in order for you nuptials I hear Lucius."

She froze, her blood ran cold and a bead of sweat ran down the back of her neck, her hair stood on end at that voice. That cold voice that dripped charm like poison. Lord Voldemort. He was here. The danger was suddenly much great and she was reminded that she was wandless in an ancient pureblood home surrounded by Death Eaters and _him_. Then the words sunk in. Nuptials? Lucius? But she'd just seen Lucius with his wife, and their son, how...

"And as is customary a gift."

Inching closer Hermione could see the door she'd been dragged through by the snatchers, the way out, she could apparate outside the grounds, get away, but something kept her feet glued to the floor.

"Take this diary Lucius and guard it well, it's worth more to me than your life."

There was hesitant laughter, as if those around were unsure whether the Dark Lord had made a joke. Diary? Lucius Malfoy and a diary, slipped into Ginny's cauldron all those years...ago. The diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle that Harry had destroyed with a basilisk fang. A Horcrux, and she was so close to it. But she couldn't go in there to get it, she'd be overpowered, the time turner found, tortured until everything she knew was ripped out of her, her mind plundered for secrets and all would be lost.

Swallowing her fear and following her better instincts she crept across the entranceway, the paintings were empty, most likely ogling the goings on in the main hall. Then she was out the gilded door and into the night. She fled down through the ornate gardens as fast as her feet would carry her to the Iron Gate at the end. Pushed it open, squirmed through and there was surrounded by rolling countryside. With nowhere to go.

The enemy, fear and death lay behind her and now she was so close to freedom and couldn't think where to go. To Hogwarts? To warn Dumbledore? No, perhaps not. His eyes were everywhere, even at Hogwarts, the children of those men and woman back in that hallway celebrating the marriage of Lucius and Narcissa. But if Voldemort was alive then that meant Harry wasn't, how far back was she, she hadn't even really stopped to consider. Here was not the place, she apparated away to a hostel, claimed she was travelling and had been robbed, a kindly woman bustled her into a free room which contained little more than a mattress and brought her some soup, asked if she wanted to call the police.

Hermione shook her head, "No thank you, I'll call my parents in the morning they can pick me up."

The woman nodded, offered to let her use the phone and went off to check on other occupants.

Hermione pulled her knees to her chest and considered her options. She was in the past, obviously, so the time turner had worked. Voldemort alive so she was in the time of the first rising. Perhaps she should contact the Order, an anonymous owl? But no, they'd find that suspicious and what could they do. Dumbledore hadn't entrusted the knowledge of the Horcruxes to them even in her time, it had been their task, Harry, Ron and hers. But they were no longer with her, if the card was to be believed they were far beyond her reach. Perhaps she could flick forwards, save them. She pulled out the time turner but on closer inspection she saw there was no sand in the hourglass. One use only then. Stuck here with no money, her wand confiscated in the future. The future! She hadn't even been conceived, Diagon Alley should still be intact, Ollivander's! Her wand would still be there now, in a box, waiting for her to come along at the tender age of eleven to collect it. She could go now. But with no money to pay for it Mr Ollivander would hardly let her walk out the shop with it, hers or no. No Gringotts vault and no family.

Gringotts! Of course! Bellatrix's reaction to the sword, perhaps there was another. Hermione paused, six Horcruxes, all of them would have been made by now, none of them destroyed. She listed them on her fingers. Salazar's Locket originally retrieved from its hiding spot by R.A.B. Regulus Black and found in Grimmauld Place, taken by Mundungus Fletcher and finally snatched from Dolores Umbridge to be destroyed by Ron with the sword of Gryffindor. Whether it had been retrieved yet by Regulus she didn't know.

The ring, the ring that had ultimately cost Albus Dumbledore his life and one of the Deathly Hallows, the other two being the Elder Wand held by Dumbeldore himself and the Cloak of Invisibility which would be with...James Potter. Harry's parents, they could still be alive right now, they had to be. Hermione swallowed hard, was that the fate she was meant to change? Could she keep them alive? Neville's parents were still alive. Then she remembered the blood protection, the thing that kept Harry safe. Hermione shook her head, paradox conundrums later. The ring was at the shack, abandoned now, she could go there now, apparate there and back. But how would she destroy it, the sword was at Hogwarts as was the basilisk, the very much alive basilisk.

Nagini, that massive great snake would be at Voldemort's side, no easy way of getting to her. But he did use her in battle, he did send her away to do his bidding, perhaps there would be an opportune moment to strike, but against she'd need the sword, and the sword would need basilisk venom. A snake to kill a snake, the irony was not lost on Hermione.

There was something in Bellatrix's vault, or would be, perhaps Voldemort had entrusted one to her as her 'wedding present' like Lucius? Hermione looked down at her blood and dirt clad clothing and plucked a long twisted black hair from her top. She held it up to the light.

"Perhaps there will be a use for you," she murmured but where to put it, it could easily be lost. And while she had that problem to solve there was the fact that there was one more unaccounted for and no idea where it might be. Hermione cursed.

Still there was the ring.

Determined she set the hair down on the pillow and apparated with a crack into the woods outside Little Hangleton. It was almost pitch black amongst the closely set trees and Hermione had to squeeze between one or two. The site of the shack shocked her, having never seen it before. She was hard pressed to assossiate it with the Dark Lord, filthy as it was, rotten, sloping on one side with the door hanging off its hinges; while he was in Malfoy Manor surrounded by extravagance and beauty, practically having his dragon skin boots kissed by hypocritical purebloods. She pinched her nose as she edged inside, the whole place stank, but where would the ring be? The place was sparse, what little furniture there was riddled with damp, a floorboard creaked and sank beneath her foot.

She paused, stepping on it again, feeling it sink further. Stepping back she crouched down and tried to touch as little as she could, prizing the floorboard loose. There, in the sliver of silver moonlight that poured in through a gap in the roof, was a glittering golden box covered in intricate carvings of snakes that seemed to writhe under her fingers as she lifted it out. She felt it thrum in her hands, probably cursed but there was no other reaction. Carefully replacing the board and brushing dust back over it, trying to make it look as little disturbed as possible she tucked the little box under her arm and left the shack. Apparating back to her room in the hostel she found it undisturbed and the hair still on her pillow.

Now what?

Placing the hair beside the box out of immediate site Hermione lay down with the intention of thinking through her next moves but before long fell asleep.

Loud knocking brought her out of her sleep. For a moment she didn't know where she was and panicked.

"Are you awake dear? Only it's nearly noon and I wondered if you'd still like to call your parents."

Hermione threw the pillow over the box as the lady came in.

"Oh, um, no it's alright," she replied smiling reassuringly, "I think I can actually walk from here, I was a bit disorientated last night, didn't realise where I was."

"Well alright dear, if you say so, I'll bring you some breakfast," the woman made to leave.

"That would be very kind."

The woman smiled kindly at Hermione and left. Hurriedly Hermione snatched the box and hair and apparated away, she didn't want the woman noticing her acquisition and getting suspicious. Not that her disappearance wasn't but it was relatively harmless.

Next up, her wand, but she'd need money and all she had was a box containing a ring with a sliver of Voldemort's soul. Looking up she saw nestled amongst other shops was a pawnbroker. Hermione grinned, perfect. So in she went with the box and out she came with a pocket full of cash. Muggle cash but money all the same, next to Diagon Alley. Dipping out of site she apparated right into the middle of it and nearly burst into tears at the site.

The alley was bustling, full of brightly dressed witches and wizards and a notable number of young ones, their arms full of books and bags. Parents holding children by the hand, hustling from one shop to the other. The beginning of term? The sites, the smells, so familiar, echoes of happier times; Hermione was almost overwhelmed. She walked up the steps of Gringotts bank and headed for the exchange counter, ignoring the looks she was getting for her grubby clothes. She'd tried to wipe away as much as she could, she didn't want anyone asking about the blood. It didn't help she probably looked like she hadn't showered in a week.

"Your money miss."

Brought out of her reverie Hermione thanked the Goblin and took the small velvet purse and headed out and up the street, straight to Ollivanders. She walked in and the bell rang, just in time to see a little girl gasp in delight as brightly coloured sparks poured from her wand. Gushing with excitement her mother thanked Mr. Ollivander and left. Pocketing the galleons he turned to her.

"Can I help you miss?" he smiled.

"Yes," she swallowed hard, "yes I'd like to buy a wand...please."

He looked at curiously and clicked his tongue, "Interesting, put your wand arm out miss."

She did so and his magical tape measure wound around her wrist, then stretched up her arm. He seemed to take little notice, still inspecting her, "Curiouser and curiouser."

"Said Alice." It slipped out before her mind registered what she'd said.

"Indeed," the corner of his mouth twitched and he moved amongst the reams of boxes and began pulling them down.

"Sir if you please, vine, 10 ¾, dragon heartstring."

He did look at her funny then, pausing and pulling down one more box, "And how is it that you've come in here with such a vivid description of what you desire miss?"

"Hermione Grant."

"You did not answer my question," he said as he handed her a wand.

She held back her disappointment, it was not her wand, she flicked it obediently and wasn't surprised when the window pains rattled.

"I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir, because I am not myself you see."

"Said Alice to the caterpillar," he handed her another wand. This time several books fell from a book shelf. His frown deepened. They continued in silence, working their way through all but one of the boxes he'd brought down. He picked up the last box revenrently, Hermione's fingers itched to reach for it.

The tension broke as the doorbell rang, a father and son pair this time, he coughed politely when neither of them moved.

"My apologies sir," Ollivander inclined his head to the man, then turned back to Hermione and opened the box, "Vine, dragon heartstring, ten and three quater inch, good for-"

But before he could even finish it was in Hermione's hand and a with a flourish all the lights burned brighter as golden sparks danced around the room. "-me," she finished and smiled to him.

"Welcome to wonderland Miss Grant."

She gave a little laugh, paid and left him to see to his next customer. The first thing she did was to scourgify herself and her clothing. Now feeling somewhat less conspicuous and all the more empowered with her wand tucked into her sleeve she headed off back down the alley with her coins burning a hole in her pocket. Stopping for an ice cream she picked up a copy of the daily prophet and set herself down to indulge in a summer afternoon and plan out her next move. She'd have to retrieve the ring box, but she had her wand now and though it didn't quite sit right with her morals to use magic to steal from a muggle she'd done a lot of things recently that she didn't like. One more wouldn't hurt.

The year was 1977 and the paper's obituary was almost as big as the rest of it. Hermione, who had been enjoying her ice cream, sobered realising that here wasn't safe either. Voldemort was still in power, even though his take over wasn't quite as successful this time, he was still here, still sending the wizarding world spiralling into a cesspit of fear. She ran a hand through her hair. With the locket status unknown and no way to destroy any of the Horcruxes on her own there was only one place she could go. She counted her sickles carefully, should be just enough to put her up till term started if she lived very frugally. Maybe she could plead with Tom the bartender of The Leaky Cauldron for a couple of hours of work.

She waited for the evening, apparating under the cover of darkness back to the pawnshop. Careful not to alert any of the muggle alarms she summoned the little golden box. Deciding not to try to open it for now, it could be warded, Harry hadn't really told her much beyond the location and that result on Dumbledore's hand, but that could have been from wearing it. She didn't know and didn't want to chance finding out. For now she was unknown to the Dark Lord and she'd like to keep it that way for a little longer at least.

She walked into the Leaky Cauldron which was wonderfully busy. Wizards and witches huddled together over pints and glasses. Talk and laughter and somewhere in the distance a wizarding radio was playing. She walked up to the counter to see a substantially younger Tom than she was used to cleaning out a glass. Magic could do it for him of course but he always had preferred having a hands-on approach, said it made him feel more connected with the punters.

"I'd like a room please," she said smiling sweetly.

He raised an eyebrow, "Would you now?"

"Will that be a problem?"

She saw his eyes dart down at her covered arms, then back to her face. It was the barest of glances but it still sent shivers up her spine. She'd have to get used to that, the suspicion, it's not like she was a well known face anymore.

"I don't suppose so, it'll be ten galleons a night, how long you be staying for?" he put down his glass and picked up another.

"Till the start of term," she replied, pulling herself up onto a stool.

"Oh, student are ye?" she nodded, then he raised an eyebrow, "how old are ye?"

"Eighteen."

"Oh aye, travelling light are we?"

"Uh well, that's where it gets complicated," he raises his other eyebrow and looked sceptical, "I had a, a falling out with my parents you see so I don't really want them to know where I am but I don't really have that much money on me so I, um," she trailed off hoping to get some sympathy.

"Don't suppose that's a wise idea, running off with all sorts about."

She groaned, "What I'm asking is if you've got any work going, hell, I'll even clean toilets, you know, for a bit of extra cash? Just to tide me over till things subside, then I'll owl them."

He looked up and down the bar for a minute then looked back at her with a sceptical expression on his face. "Ever waited tables kid?"

She shrugged.

"Well we're short staffed tonight, you prove yourself and I'll see what I can do."

Hermione grinned, then before he could blink leaned over the bar and kissed his cheek, "Thank you, I promise you won't regret this."

The brunette then grabbed a tray and did just that.

**Hermione is easily one of my favourite HP characters and yes, she's the brightest witch of her age and very intuitive and been through a lot but I'm going to try not to make her omniscient. She's a scared teen well out of her depth with a lot of things beyond her influence, especially when thrown back in time and I don't think anyone would take her at face value right off the bat. So please bare with me, next chapter we head to Hogwarts, still not decided on if there's going to be pairings or not.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I might have got a little carried away writing this chapter, but then I don't think anyone's going to complain about a long chapter right?**

**Thank you very much to my first two reviewers, Lost O'Fallon Girl and Smithback. I hope you both continue to read and enjoy this story.**

**Much more maraudering in this chapter, along with a few other introductions.**

**Enjoy**

A couple of weeks in and Hermione had dipped into her room fund to get herself a few new clothes, scourgifying and transfiguring her old ones to get away with wearing the same shirt day in day out would have worn it out fast. At least she could get away with one pair of jeans. Tieing an apron around her waist she went out into the front room a began serving drinks. It had been an easy two weeks, one or two incidence of overly drunk patrons getting overly friendly but nothing she couldn't handle. At times she'd almost felt she could forget the past, forget what had brought her here, what she had to do. Times when that's all she wanted. But she couldn't, she knew if she stopped, if she lost sight of what needed to be done, she'd never be able to live with herself. It would eat away at her, and having known the wonder of the wizarding world she could never live a muggle life, nor bring herself to take the memories away. Besides, she knew from her studies that self adjustment of memories was impossible to complete as the caster often forgot what they were doing as they were doing. They either went mad or echoes of those past memories haunted them to their grave.

"One daisyroot when you're ready."

"Harry."

"Pardon?"

"Sorry I...I thought you were someone else."

In that instant she knew who he was. Taller than Harry true and slightly more defined, but the same hair, sticking up at the back. As she watched he pushed his glasses up his nose and blinked at her through hazel eyes that were completely foreign. "I have that effect on women," he grinned down at her, "now can we get our drinks?"

"Oh yes sorry," Hermione said moving to pull the daisyroot draught as James Potter counted out sickles onto the counter.

"Whatcha having Padfoot?"

Sirius grinned and winked at Hermione, "Firewhiskey."

Hermione's hands were shaking. Not because she was blown away by his looks, the slight stubble on his chin, the mischievous glittering black eyes, but because it was so radically different, so long since she'd heard that nickname. No hallow cheeks or ashen skin, no sunken dulling eyes, no scraggly beard and alive. She wanted to get away from them. She didn't know how to react, or what to say. She wanted to tell them, tell them to run and at the same time knew it would do no good.

"Thanks," James Potter grinned, pushing the sickles towards her. Both boys picked up their drinks and headed for the outside seating to enjoy the summer afternoon.

A little shaken Hermione stepped back and out of site, going up to her room to splash water on her face. If she'd been unsure before, she was sure now. She didn't know who she could save, or exactly how, but she knew she had to try. For Harry; for a better future.

The first of September found Hermione packing her few belongings into a bag. The golden box first and the magically preserved hair from Bellatrix. On top of those clothes and toiletries. Once everything was safely inside she shouldered her bag and headed downstairs.

"You're off then?"

"Yes Tom," Hermione replied smiling at him. He smiled back.

"Well it was good to have ye, good luck," he patted her on her back. She reached into her pocket for the last nights payment and held it up to him. He closed his hands over hers, "You keep it, you've earned it and I think you'll need it me 'an me."

Tears pricked her eyes and she hugged him. He patted her head and sent her on her way with a smile.

She apparated to outside King's Cross and walked to the barrier between platforms nine and ten, she could have apparated to the Hogwarts gates but she rather fancied the nostalgic trip on the train. She'd missed out on her seventh and final ride. Although it might not necessarily have been her final ride after all Professor Lupin had-

Hermione gave a cry and clutched her nose, stumbling backwards and looking up in shock and horror with a tiny hint of panic at the brick wall between platforms nine and ten. She reached forward and tentatively pressed her hand to the wall, willing it to go through, praying. But there was nothing but cold stone under her hand.

"Are you alright there miss?"

She turned to see a conductor looking at her in concern and bewilderment.

"Yes, yes I was just distracted, wasn't watching where I was going," she shook her head, "sorry."

"Should I get you an ice pack, or maybe you should sit down, maybe you have a concussion?"

"No no I'm sure I'll be fine, just bumped my nose that's all." She was willing him to go away, she needed to figure out what to do and listening to him wasn't helping.

Finally he shrugged, "Well alright." With that he wondered off muttering about all these funny kids hanging around the platform.

Hermione continued to massage her bruised nose.

"Well well if it isn't miss dosey draught herself."

Hermione spun around.

Sirius grinned at her, "I told you it was her James, it's that hair, can see it a mile off."

"Yeh yeh," James said catching up, he was pushing a trolley with two suitcases and a caged owl. Not a white owl though, a proud tawny thing with piercing yellow eyes.

"I'm sorry have we met?"

"Cheeky witch," Sirius taunted moving towards the barrier, "Like you could forget a face like mine."

"Well you could always remind me," Hermione smiled at up at him, linking her arm through his making him raise an eyebrow. His grin got wider and she hoped this would work. They passed through the barrier. Hermione relaxed, letting go of his arm.

"You know I never did catch your name."

Before she could answer three people came through the archway clad head to toe in black, with black hair and black eyes, straight backed, eyes forward and striding powerfully, capes billowing. One was young, the other two obviously his parents, high cheek bones, and strong jaw lines. They didn't even spare anyone a second glance.

"Who's that?" Hermione breathed out as the young boy bowed to his mother and shook his father's hand.

Sirius fidgeted, shoved his hands in his pockets and mumbled, "My brother."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something else but she was interrupted.

"Remus!"

Hermione's head snapped round when James called out and waved. Flaxen coloured hair to his shoulders and sparkling golden eyes, no scratches on his face, but the lines around his mouth were tight, the echo of frown lines on his forehead. Professor Remus J. Lupin. Well, future Professor.

"Good to see you both looking so well," he hugged both James and Sirius, patting them on the back.

"Could say the same for you," Sirius grinned.

"Well thanks."

"I said could," Sirius smirked.

"Oh shove off Padfoot," Remus punched him in the arm.

"Hey, there's a lady present," Sirius said gesturing to Hermione.

"My apologise dear lady," Remus bowed to her and kissed her hand, she flushed bright red, "I hope these two haven't bored you too much."

Hermione felt like she'd swallowed her tongue.

"You know I don't think I've seen you before, are you meeting someone?" James asked, leaning on his trolley.

"I am going to see Professor Dumbledore."

"Oh?"

"Petey!"

This time Hermione turned slowly as the smaller boy came up to them, looking a bit flushed from heaving his case. "Pete why didn't you just get a trolley?" Sirius laughed.

"Oh good one Sirius," Peter laughed awkwardly.

"We missed you over the summer, how come you never answered any of our owls?" James ruffled the boys brown hair fondly. Hermione's stomach turned over, she almost felt sick.

"I was on holiday with my parents, not much time for owls, I haven't even finished my holiday work," Peter replied.

"Again Peter?" Sirius teased.

"Have you?" Peter huffed.

"Yeah, me and James split half way, that way we both pass," Sirius grinned and put at arm around James.

"You really should learn to work on your own, the pair of you," Remus chided.

"We do the exams well enough don't we?" James grinned.

"Hm," Remus sounded sceptical then turned to Peter, "Don't worry Peter, I'll help you on the train."

The four of them moved towards the train and climbed on board having forgotten Hermione for the moment. She didn't mind, being so close to them hadn't sat right with her. She'd known them it was true, but older versions, more weighed down by the world on their shoulders and a second war. These versions hadn't even lived through the first one yet. She knew what they could be, everything they hadn't been. But she didn't know them now, they were echoes of the men she'd known, like something from a half forgotten dream.

She climbed onto the train, no need to dawdle on the platform and settled herself in an empty compartment near the back. She watched students and parents and relatives pour past the window. Saw the steam billow up and felt the little jolt as the Hogwarts Express began to move. Watched the station roll out of view, she could almost imagine this was her seventh year. Ron and Harry will have been late, they'd be searching the carriages for her. She'd hear them soon, laughing, Ron's disgust when Ginny pulled Harry in for a kiss. Then they'd open the door, grin when they saw her and tumble into the seats. Temporarily crushed against the window by Ron's gangly body, then he'd frantically move away, they'd both blush and Ginny would give her that look that said 'just kiss already you fools'.

She drifted off to sleep as the green country side rolled by dreaming of the impossible.

The whistle blew as the train pulled into the station and in the few moments between the haze of her dream and the shock of reality she realised she wasn't wearing her school robes, she should have changed by now. Then she realised why she wasn't changed. She was on the wrong side of the train for the platform but she could hear the students outside the compartment. She hugged her bag to her chest, waited for the voices to fade. Somewhere in the distance she heard Horrid calling the first years and a sob hitched in her throat. Tears pricked her eyes, she shook her head, she had to be strong.

When the train was finally quiet she slipped from the train onto the empty platform, she could just see the trail of black clad students filing up to the last of the carriages, she edged closer hoping none of them would see him.

"Come on Severus, get in," a voice called from one of the carriages. She saw him then, black hair down to his shoulders, that all too familiar nose. He hoisted himself into the carriage and pull the door shut behind him. He hadn't seen her. Her legs felt like they were jelly, that was the boy that would murder Dumbledore, who'd put his life and loyalty on the line. Hermione watched the carriage roll away then turned to look at the last one. The last carriage and it's black skeletal stead. She shuddered; there had been a time when she hadn't seen them, when death was a far away concept, now it was all too real. Climbing into the carriage she sat back and pondered her next move. It would hardly be prudent to walk into the great hall, in front of the whole school, she'd be hexed off her feet. She couldn't exactly waltz in and say who she was either, better than be a secret from as many, and for as long, as possible.

The carriage rolled to a stop, she could see Professor McGonagall with a lamp at the doors to the castle. Saw the students file past her, saw her eyes shift to the carriage waiting for someone to get out or for the carriage to move on to wherever it was they went when they weren't in use. But the carriage did not move and neither did Hermione. Professor McGonagall came forward and held her lamp up to the carriage windows and opened the door, "Who are you," she clipped, "and what are you doing here."

"I mean you no harm," Hermione said raising her hands in compliance, "I wish to speak to Professor Dumbledore."

"You could have picked a better time that the beginning of year feast."

"I wanted to make sure he'd be here."

The Professor eyed her wearily.

"Look," she reached down and instantly the Professor's wand was on her, "I'll give you my wand, if you'll please take me to Professor Dumebledore's office and tell him it's urgent, please Professor."

McGonagall kept her wand trained on Hermione has Hermione reached for her own and held it out, handle first to woman she'd spent a lot of her school life looking up to. She still did look up to her, and understood her caution. An unknown had just walked right into the school in a time when you didn't know who you could trust. She took Hermione's wand and beckoned, "Well you best follow me then."

Hitching her bag up onto her shoulder Hermione climbed out of the carriage and followed her into the castle, up several flights of stairs to the statue guarding the entry to the headmaster's office.

"Sherbet Lemons," McGonagall said. Hermione bit her lip to hide the smile, she'd heard that one before.

They reached the top and McGonagall knocked, "Albus, I have someone who wants to see you."

"Come in."

That did it, tears burned her eyes when she heard that voice. That voice that always conferred a confidence and safety she'd missed so much. She walked into the room, the white effigy really didn't do him justice. "Professor Dumbledore," she breathed out.

He gestured to a seat and she fell into it, "What can I help you with my dear?"

"Professor I," and the words died in her throat, what should she say, what could she say. Truth is she hadn't really thought about this bit. She licked her lips and reached for the chain around her neck, heavy against her skin. She pulled out the time turner, both Professors were watching her like hawks. "This is impossible to explain," she removed the necklace and placed it on his desk, "and the nature of my coming here is a mystery even to me and I don't know how much or what I can say, or what it may do."

Dumbledore nodded, "Please continue."

"I am from the future and for the present I believe I need to be here, at Hogwarts, to help, somehow."

"Albus you can't believe this," Professor McGonagall interrupted, ever the voice of reason.

"I know what it's like, to have Voldemort at large," they looked at her surprised, "and I have no proof of who I am, where I'm from but I have this," slowly she pulled up her sleeve. It was still there on her arm, angry red welts. She heard Professor McGonagall gasp.

Dumbledore sighed, "It saddens me to think another generation may experience what we go through, I don't believe you are here to do harm but are you aware of the dangers of time travel?"

"I am sir and I wouldn't have come if I didn't have a choice, again I don't want to say more, not yet," Hermione pleaded. The room was tense and oh how she wished they were the Dumbledore and McGonagall from her time, she wished they wouldn't look at her with speculative eyes.

"Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself and what you're hoping we can do for you?" Dumbledore encouraged.

"My name is Hermione Granger, I'm seventeen years old," in truth she was more like eighteen now, time travelling made it awkward to tell exactly, "and I'd like to take my NEWTs, I had only finished my sixth year at Hogwarts when I left."

"Surely you didn't come all the way here to study?" he prompted.

"No, but it is what I must do in the mean time."

"And you said you had attended Hogwarts previously?"

"That's right."

"What house?"

"Gryffindor."

He smiled at that.

"I think for now you should stay here Miss Granger, we will put you into the seventh year and into Gryffindor house."

"Albus-"

"Where my dear Professor McGonagall can keep an eye on you," he smiled at the Scottish woman and she was silenced. "But you will not be allowed to leave the castle without permission or an escort."

"Professor-"

He held up a hand, "Please understand Miss Granger that though you present a promising case, a trinket and scars are not enough to relieve a man, nor to condemn him. You may stay under these conditions or you may leave."

Hermione swallowed, this would make things difficult but what else could she do. If she said no she'd be back where she started and everything and everyone she needed, needed to protect was here. "I understand Professor, I accept."

He smiled kindly behind half moon spectacles, "Good, then I am pleased to welcome you as a student of Hogwarts, Minerva if you'd be so kind as to transfigure some robes?"

A flick of the transfiguration professor's wand and Hermione felt the familiar weight of robes on her shoulders, smoothing them over her lap, taking comfort.

"And what subjects will you be taking my dear?"

"Charms, potions, arithmancy and ancient runes please."

Dumbledore nodded, scribbling it down on a piece of parchment.

"Thank you, both of you."

"If anyone should ask I believe you may pass as a home schooled witch whose parents have sent you here, what with the recent attacks for your safety and they, in turn, have fled the country. That should also account for your absence on Hogsmeade trips. We'll have your bag sent to the dormitories." Hermione nodded. "Now I do believe we're late for the feast," he reached up and took the sorting hat from its shelf, "Shall we?"

Hermione followed them downstairs, Professor McGonagall left to collect the first years, who were probably more terrified than ever at having been made to wait, Dumbledore lead her to the entrance to the great hall.

"Good luck Miss Granger," and with a nod he left her.

Slipping in through the doors she made her way over to the Gryffindor table and slipped into a seat. The hall was full of excited chatter about the delay, talk of the holidays, who had and hadn't finished their homework. For a while she went un-noticed but then people began to point and someone might have said something if Dumbledore hadn't entered the Professor McGonagall made a timely arrival with the first years. Everyone was then too absorbed in the sorting to notice her. Then the food appeared and people began to tuck in and though she received some odd glances no one said anything to her. It made her feel awfully lonely, but at the same time it meant she could look around uninterrupted.

A red head with freckles was causing a ruckus at the Gryffindor table, but people were laughing all the same, he looked a bit like Mr Weasley but she knew it couldn't be Arthur, a relative perhaps. Really there weren't many familiar faces, perhaps they were too young or too old to be at Hogwarts yet. No sign of anything Malfoy like at the Slytherin table, just a young Severus Snape reading a book surrounded by a group of Slytherin boys who were obviously trying to say something of little interest. A little further down the table sat the boy Sirius had identified as his brother, R.A.B, Regulus Black. He sat stiffly and there was no mistaking that those around him deferred to him. But then the name Black had once been like royalty, or so Sirius had said. Regulus was obviously younger, or perhaps it was the fact that he kept clean shaven that made him look younger. His hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, he had the same proud face as his parents, the same nose and jaw as Sirius. Sirius had called him a soft hearted fool and lamented his death, apparently he'd joined the Death Eater's young, perhaps he already had the mark. He looked up, his eyes met hers.

Black met brown but it did not hold; too good for her she supposed.

Pudding came and then the feast was over. Sleepy and sated students rose from their benches, filing after their prefects to their respective common rooms. The portrait of the fat lady swan open, there was a roaring fire in the grate, bright red and gold banners, a spiralling staircase, a four poster bed with red sheets and red curtains. Soft pillows and sleep; delicious, delirious sleep.

"Who is she?"

"I don't know, I've never seen her before?"

"Do you think she's new?"

"Well obviously!"

"Okay sorry no need to snap at me."

"Well it was a stupid thing to say."

"Hey!"

"Girls, come on, don't fight."

"She's waking up."

Hermione opened her eyes to see four girls gathered around her bed looking down at her.

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty or you'll miss breakfast and be late for class," a red headed one said.

"Trust you to worry about being late for class on our first day back." A brunette.

"You should be more worried." A blonde.

"Nah, you're head girl now, you can all the worrying for us." The brunette again.

Hermione groaned and sat up rubbing her head, "What time is it?"

"Oh so you do speak," the red head smiled and checked her watch, "It's just gone eight."

"What?" Hermione's school time senses kicked in, she should be up by now, dressed and ready and possibly munching on some fresh toast. The red head laughed as Hermione jumped out of bed.

"You must have been tired, you slept in your robes," the blonde giggled.

Hermione looked down at her crumpled robes and groaned again, she thought to cast an ironing charm and then realised she'd never gotten her wand back from McGonagall.

Seeing her panicked look one of the girls thoughtfully asked, "What's the matter?"

"My wand...my things..."

The red head smiled and turned her round to face the trunk at the foot of her bed, "Brought up by house elves, no need to panic and don't worry, we'll soon have you up to speed, I'll even lend you my copy of Hogwarts: A History."

Hermione flushed, she could quote Hogwarts: A History, a newer edition no less. She flung open her trunk and inside was her bag and laid on top of some fresh robes, her wand. Grabbing her wand she felt inside her bag for the golden box, there it was, safe and sound. No doubt Dumbledore had looked in her bag and he'd probably have questions, but he's ask them when he felt was right and for now she was grateful. Parchment detailing her class schedule and a note telling her texts had been ordered for her but wouldn't arrive till tomorrow, the Professors had been informed of her arrival and would lend her books for the day.

Changing hurriedly she put some parchment, quills and ink into a satchel bag that was under the new robes, grabbed her toothbrush and headed for the bathroom. The red head girl seemed to have had the same idea and was already brushing her teeth. Hermione put a generous amount of paste on her brush and placed it to her teeth, scrubbing in deliberate circular motions. She didn't look at her companion but she did heard her brushing speed up a little. Hermione too began to brush more forcefully. The red head looked at her sideways and sped up again, Hermione in hot pursuit. Both girls grabbed a cup and took mouthfuls of water, rinsed and spat in quick succession and slammed their cups down onto their respective sinks.

Not really wanting to talk after that Hermione shouldered her bag and walked past the other girls to the spiral staircase, "I think I can find my way on my own, thank you very much," she said and walked down the stairs.

Lily came out of the bathroom, a little dazed, "Well that was..."

"Weird," said the blonde.

Hermione made it down to the great hall without any further encounters. The hall was mostly populated by sixth and seventh years, the younger years mostly gone for their nine o'clock starts. The remainder enjoying a long breakfast that no doubt backed onto a free period. Hermione sat down at the end of the Gryffindor table and reached for some toast, noticing the Marauder's were also present but they were too engaged with themselves to spare her a second glance. She pulled out the parchment with her classes on, potions, at nine, oh shit.

Hastily swallowing the last of her toast she veritably flew down the steps to the dungeons. She needn't have worried, she was there in plenty of time. The class was a small one and only one face she recognised.

"Why you even taking this subject if you already know it all Sev," a boy with scraggly asked.

"I like to be prepared Avery, you would be wise to do the same," Snape drawled back. Hermione couldn't take her eyes of him, unlike Harry she'd never seen young Snape 'in the flesh' just a picture. Same voice, same hair, same face, same nose, well younger, but so very, achingly familiar. Potions lessons full of disparaging looks and hurtful comments trying to cut her down and now here they both were, on equal footing as it were. Or not so equal perhaps, he was clutching his potions text book she noticed. The half blood prince.

"What are you looking at?"

She looked up to find him starring at her. "I wasn't-"

"Welcome back students," boomed Professor Slughorn as he opened the door to the classroom, "and you must be Miss Hermione Granger, welcome welcome, sorry to hear about your circumstances my dear, all very tragic but never mind that now," Hermione frowned, he hadn't changed, "now here's a text book for you, I hope you've all done your summer reading," the class groaned, "very good very good."

Hermione kept her head down not wanting to meet anyone's eye.

"As a welcome back treat I have a very special surprise in store for all of you and a treat for the lucky winner," he held up a vial, "can anyone tell me what this is?"

Hermione's hand went up automatically. So did Snape's.

She looked at him. He looked at her.

"Felix Felicis," they said in unison, almost to each other. Both turned to Slughorn, "Also called liquid luck."

They looked at each other again, he glared at her, she couldn't help the triumphant smile that pulled at her lips. That felt good.

"Both correct, take twenty points each, I daresay Miss Granger might finally give you a challenge Severus," Professor Slughorn said jovially. "Now to win this potent treat which is guaranteed to brighten your day all you have to do is brew a perfect Draught of the Living Dead. You may use your text books, your time starts now."

Hermione's face fell. This was sixth year all over again and Harry with his half blood prince text book whipping the floor with her. Her, the brightest witch of her age, the witch that no one had yet invented a spell she couldn't do. She looked at Snape, he was smirking, he knew, the smarmy git already knew. Well two can play that game, she opened her text book and went to fetch the ingredients. She'd been so humiliated when Harry had shown her up and nothing spurred Hermione more than humiliation. She remembered watching him crush the sopophorous bean with a knife, so she did the same. Not caring one little bit for anyone else in the room she stirred the potion counter clock-wise seven times, then once the other way.

"Professor I'm finished."

They looked at each other again. She definitely had his attention now and it definitely wasn't good attention but she could still see the confidence in his eyes. Thinking he had the upper hand. Professor Slughorn didn't object, ladled them each into cups and tested them both for the whole class to see.

"Extraordinary," Slughorn exclaimed, "such talent, where have they been keeping you Miss Granger, I think your parents may have missed a trick not sending you here sooner. You see that Severus, intuition my boy, Severus here s one of our brightest and best Miss Granger such raw talent. But this is a predicament, it seems a shame to split the prize and I only have one vial, perhaps a quick quiz to break this little stalemate of ours."

The tension in the room grew thick as everyone fixed their gaze on Hermione and Severus, it was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, always exciting.

"Fine," Snape snapped.

Hermione nodded.

"What is the difference between," Slughorn paused, "monkshood and," he paused again, Hermione's blood quickened, it couldn't be, "wolfsb-"

"They're the same!" She cried; the answer already on the tip of her tongue. Snape glared at her. Oh the irony. Oh the delicious irony.

"Oh Severus should have been more on the ball my lad, and to the victor the spoils, fifty points Miss Granger and as promised," he presented her the vial, "might come in handy round exam time," he winked.

"But that would be cheating Professor," Hermione gasped.

"I was only joking, Gryffindor indeed, leave your potions where they are, I'll inspect them and get your grades back to you next class. Now go on all of you," he shooed them out.

Hermione was first out of the classroom and up the stairs heading towards the main hall, arithmancy next, one of her favourites, even if it was three flights up.

A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her round a corner into a dead end. She had her wand to her assailants throat before he could speak. "Let go." She looked up. Snape?

He pushed her wand aside but didn't release his grip on her arm, "How did you know?"

"Let go of me now," she replied defiantly, not lowering her wand.

He shook her, "I asked you a question, how did you know!"

"Know what?" she stressed looking at him exasperated.

"I saw what you did, no one does that."

"Look I copied you alright," she wasn't sure where that came from and it galled her to say it but in a way she wasn't lying, in a very round about, wibbly wobbly, timey wimey way.

He smirked, "I knew it," then held out his hand.

"Excuse me?" she said looking from his hand to his face.

"Hand it over."

"Are you serious?" she looked at him in amused shock, the nerve. She'd won fair and square, what a sore loser.

"Oh come on Evans, how about I walk you to class?"

James' voice. She felt Snape stiffen.

"Well if you don't mind, I'm going to be late for class," she extricated herself from his grip and slipped out back into the main corridor. James and Lily were just ahead of her, the former with his hands in his pockets and grinning at the latter who flipped her hair back over her shoulder.

Evidently they both had charms second period too as they were heading in the same direction as Hermione. Knowing Snape wouldn't pursue her with James at hand knowing their animosity she let the tension from that little encounter slide off her. Besides, she had studying to do. She'd need to keep up the pretence of actually trying at this year after all, and though preparing to hunt Horcruxes and chasing them down all over Britain had given her knowledge and experience most Hogwarts students wouldn't want to dream of that didn't mean she knew the seventh year syllabus by rote. That said, she had read up on the whole of the first term before the end of sixth year. Couldn't be too prepared right?

**Remember Hermione has seen these men die and in great pain and that said I think Sirius mellowed in his older years so I tried to make him the border between nice and not so. Love him or hate him type. Hermione, to me, was shy in the first book, and really bar Harry and Ron she didn't seem to make that many friends at Hogwarts so without them I feel she might keep to herself and assert her fierce independence, to her detriment perhaps. We shall see. Also I didn't want to go down the route of Dumbledore lapping up her every word and just taking it at that, or Hermione giving away sacred secrets to prove her point. Actions speak louder than words and keep your friends close but your enemies closer is in effect here.**

**Please review, I like to know what you think.**


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